


Take Advantage of My Heart

by orphan_account



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1205401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're a Midgardian girl who's been plucked from her normal life by an alien species among other human prisoners.  The Asgardians challenge this species and defeat them, but can't simply release the war prisoners.  You end up as the spoils of war in the hands of Asgard's youngest prince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Woozy

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck I haven't written fanfic in years, let's see what happens... holy shit this is a short chapter, I'm sorry.

You can’t open your eyes. Your head hurts much too much to even attempt to allow the slightest amount of light in. All you know is that there are voices, far away, but you can’t even make your brain focus on them. You whimper softly, but barely a sound comes out from your dry, raspy throat. You try to push your body off the cold, stone ground, but really, if you can’t open your eyes, what made you think you had a chance of pushing yourself off the ground?

You use the ground as a sort of mediocre ice pack for your heavy head, hoping it’ll ease some of the pain. Through the throbbing you wonder: do they even have ice packs here? Where even is here? Before you can let your sore mind wander though, the voices get a bit louder and your eyes tighten shut further. 

The voices are stationary for a moment, and in a split second of clarity you realize that they must have stopped at the cage next to yours. Every muscle in your body tenses, and you bear the pain enough to open your eyes. Boots. Three sets of boots. Black leather, all of them. One of them clearly lower class than the other two. Your eyes venture upward; one is dressed in green and gold, another in red and silver, and the one below them in brown. You inwardly groan as you realize from the fashions, you’re still not home, although the cages should’ve been a dead giveaway of that. One of the voices is slightly nervous; you quickly assign that one to the man in brown. Another voice is quiet, calculated, and the last booming, free. You can’t see their faces, so you can’t really determine whose is whose.

They turn away from the other cage and walk in your direction. You do your best to open your eyes wide, to not show the pain you’re feeling. Your heart is pounding but you bite your tongue.

To your surprise, the lesser man leads the other two past your cage. The one in green lingers a little as the other two begin to talk about the next girl. The quiet green clad man speaks up, “What of this girl?”

Your eyes widen, and you so desperately want to scurry into a corner of your small cage. Instead, you manage to lift your head a little. The man in brown takes the few steps back to your cage. “Her, my Lord? Despite her good looks, she’s been nothing but trouble. Bit one of our men yesterday, clear through the skin. We had to beat her good for that one.”

So that was why you hurt so badly. Your groggy sore brain was beginning to remember some things. You realize that the brown cloaked man was in charge of you and the other prisoners, but god was he an ass. Recalling last night’s events made your blood boil; one of the men handling you had tried to grope your breasts, taunting you, his gross breath in your ear. You’d bitten him hard, there was blood, and they’d beaten you unconscious, to where you’d only woken up just a few minutes ago.

You’re able to reach for your voice. “You’re forgetting the part where I was molested and bit him in defense.” Your voice is barely your own, cracking, ragged.

“Is this true?” The quiet man’s voice is hard, like crystal.

“Of course not. She’s a filthy, lying, Midgardian bitch.” His voice was scathing.

“And you’re a kidnapping, sadistic, whatever-the-fuck-you-are asshole.” You sneer a little. You’re not good at holding your tongue, even when it’d be best for your health.

“You little bitch-“ The brown cloaked man stepped forward but was interrupted.

“I’d like to see her sitting up, rather than sprawled on the ground.” The quiet man said, authoritatively, so it was clear that it was not a request but a demand.

“Brother you can’t be seriously considering this girl.” The man in red murmurs to his brother.

The prison master makes no moves to help you sit up, so you try yourself. It’s hard and you have to gnaw on your cheek to keeping from groaning aloud, but you eventually are sitting up, chest heaving, leaning against the cage wall, looking up at the men through tired eyes.

From this angle you can see their faces and you’re surprised that the red and green men are supposedly brothers. The red man is buff to say the least, wide shoulders and prominent chest with dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and a thick jaw. The green man is much leaner, but you can tell that labeling him as weak would be a mistake. His jaw is sharp, his eyes an even sharper green, his hair black, stark against pale skin. They’re both unbelievably gorgeous, but you can’t seem to move your gaze from those emerald gems masquerading as irises. 

The lean man gives you a twitching, one-sided grin. “It seems the girl obeys who counts.”

Although you appreciate the red rising in the prison master’s face, you narrow your eyes a little at the man. You really don't like the idea of obeying anybody. You give your best one-sided sneer to mimic his grin, but it just makes his grin grow even wider.

“I quite like her. I’ll take her.” He begins to walk away as the prison master balks a little. The blonde man claps a hand on the prison master’s shoulder and shakes his head, muttering, “Loki.”

Loki. Loki. The name echoes in your head as you close your eyes again, exhausted from everything that has just transpired. You don’t even know your fate anymore, and as you fall asleep, you’re not sure you even care anymore.


	2. Unfamiliar Spaces With Familiar Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally wake up. Loki explains your situation and asserts his dominance over you.

Without opening your eyes, you know you’re not in the cage anymore. The room isn’t frigid, but comfortably cool. You feel blankets underneath you and you’re almost in shock; you haven’t felt blankets in weeks. It’s been stone floor after stone floor for you, the bars of a cage around you. You feel exposed, though. You’re stretched out, your arms above you, your legs long and slightly spread. You try to curl up into a ball but you’re stopped short.

You open your eyes suddenly, ignoring the bright light searing into your corneas and rush your eyes to your wrists. They’re bound by steel cuffs, as are your ankles. You groan and grit your teeth a little. You should’ve figured as much. You pull on the restraints, eyes darting around the room. The room is filled with green, black, and gold. Luscious curtains, large plush rugs, a leather couch and chair, tall bookshelves, and a gentle stone fireplace. You pull and pull, back rising off of the bed, but nothing gives in the slightest and you fall back, panting. Suddenly you remember: Loki.

“There’s no use in trying, pet.” The tall, dark haired man from before approaches, appraising you, hands clasped behind his back, making confident strides towards you. “That steel is the finest in Asgard; your little body stands no chance.”

“Who are you?” Your voice is still so cracked and ragged.

He frowns, a little sneer in his lip. “You dare speak so rudely to me? I am Loki, Prince of Asgard, and you will address me as sir, my Prince, or my Lord.”  
“What the fuck is Asgard…sir?”

He laughed, a little breathily, and you blush. You feel threatened by the laugh but at the same time, the breathiness of it is so… adorable in the strangest way.

“That’s right, the average Midgardian doesn’t know about us.” He’s grinning. “To you, we’re myths and fairy tales. We’re Gods. And I, a God, have chosen you to be my plaything, my spoil of war. Isn’t that an honor?”

So you weren’t in those beasts’ care anymore, but you weren’t home, still.

“My Lord, why can’t I go home?” Your voice cracked. “I thought your people were coming to save us.”

He sighed, to your surprise. “We stopped the beasts from kidnapping more Midgardians, humans, but it’s complicated. We can’t release the current prisoners.”  
“Sir… where are the other girls?” I almost whisper it, afraid for the others. 

“Employed and in service throughout the land. Do not fret, little girl.” He stops and grins. “Are you not curious about your predicament? Those shining chains you’re bound to? Your revealed body? You’re not at all curious?”

You flush red. You remember him calling you a “plaything.” You pull at the restraints again, your defiant nature rushing back to you.

“No, I’m not curious at all.” You say through gritted teeth.

He pushes your chest down, your back hitting the bed again, stopping your struggling. You gasp a little and look at him through narrowed eyes. His emerald eyes are amused.  
“You, little one,” He steps away, peeling off his cape and armor. He looks down at you again, smirking. “Are mine. You belong to me, only me. You are now my possession, and I will do what I want with you.”

Your brain begins to panic, you want to scream, you want to fight, but all you say in a clear, sturdy voice is: “No.”

He laughs and grabs your jaw in his hand. “Pet, you have two choices. You can either anger me and make me a cruel master, or you can make this easy and I will not rush you, I will not break you.” His face had drifted until it was an inch from yours. “Your choice.”

His lips smoothly slide against yours and you don’t fight the kiss, perceiving his threat and making your choice. His lips are cool and taste good, a combination of mint and cinnamon filling your mouth. His tongue darts in and you whimper a little, accepting the kiss, but not reciprocating. He is now above you on the bed, looming over you. He notices your reluctance, and grabs your hair, pulling your face away from his.

“Respond,” He growls, “You are expected to both give and take.”

He pushes back into the kiss and you reluctantly respond, moving your lips against his. The kiss somehow tastes even better now, and under different circumstances you might have been incredibly aroused by his kiss, intoxicated by it even, but now you only feel the slightest hint of enjoyment from it, if at all.

He finally breaks away, breathing heavily, smirking at you. “Did you enjoy that, little one?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You don’t know what to say. You couldn’t deny that the kiss was good, but you hadn’t wanted it one bit, not from this strange man who claimed he owned you. You turn your head away and bite your lip, torn. After a long pause, he grabbed your chin and pulled you to face him.

“The correct answer is ‘yes, my Lord.’” He softly growled at you.

“Yes, my Lord.” You just whisper it, staring wide into his eyes, unable to pull yourself away from his green gems. 

He smiles and lets your chin go, moving his hand to run through your hair, petting your head. “Good girl.” He gets up and starts to put on his armor again.

“My prince?” he looks up at you, one eyebrow cocked curiously. “Um, when may I be released from these chains?”

He breaks out into a grin and walks back to you, stroking your cheek gently. “Eventually, pet. I’ve got to make sure you know who’s in charge, after all. Can’t have you biting me like you did to that other man.” 

And with that, he walks out of the room, closing the door behind you, leaving you by yourself, spread on this bed, with only your thoughts and the fire for company. You use this time to replay what’d just happened in your head and try to make sense of it.


	3. The Flowers, They Bloomed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scub a dub dub in the tub
> 
> No, but you really need a bath, man you haven't had one in like two months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a good song to listen to at the end: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXvCMAmhJ44
> 
> I'm sorry I ended this chapter like I did, I still have homework to do D:
> 
> also body horror tw for the image in the video i linked.

A few hours later a young girl comes into the room. She avoids your eyes and shuffles towards you. You think she can’t be older than thirteen. She cautiously approaches you; you’re still cuffed to the bed. She’s blushing bright red, still looking towards the ground. She clumsily undoes your binds and quickly takes a step back. You slowly sit up, stretching your unused muscles. You look to her curiously and begin to say “thank y-“

“The Prince has requested that you take a bath.” She blurts out, cutting you off. “I’m to help you, please don’t hurt me, miss.”

You blink in shock. “I-okay… I won’t hurt you. Why would you think that?”

She blushed a deeper shade of red and looked at her feet, wringing her small hands. “I heard you’re wild, miss. You bit a man. You’re the talk of the servants; Lord Loki must be in over his head with you.”

You balked. They were talking about you? “Um, I, I bit that man because he was hurting me. I won’t hurt anyone if they don’t hurt me first; I’m not that kind of person.”

The girl nods but refuses to meet your gaze. “The bath is this way.” She gestures towards a large wooden door next to the fireplace and starts to walk there.

You try to stand up, but your legs are so weak from disuse, hunger, and abuse that you collapse right to the ground with a loud bang. The servant girl squeals and rushes to you, finally looking at you. You groan as she tries to help you up. 

“Are you okay, miss? What happened?” She’s frantic, wondering if somehow she’ll be blamed for this.

“I just- just haven’t used my legs in a bit, that’s all.” She’s helped you up to the bed now so you’re sitting like before.

“Are you able to walk at all?” You think there might be genuine concern in her eyes. “Did the man you bit do this?”

“I’m sure I will be able to eventually. Need to build up my muscle, I guess. Being held prisoner for two months really does affect you, huh?” You blush a little in embarrassment. “Yeah, kinda. The man I bit was one of the guys holding me captive.”

She nods, and you think she understands. There’s a click at the bedroom door and suddenly Loki is there, still imposing in what seems to be the most casual clothes he would wear. A simple green shirt and black trousers with a black and gold belt. He looks at you and the girl curiously.

“I thought I ordered you to give her a bath?” He walks over to the bed. “She still looks filthy.”

The girl turns impossibly redder and stutters, “I-I-I-I t-t-tried, m-my L-lord. S-she-“

“I can’t really walk that well. Two months in a cramp cage, I tried to walk, fell right over. It wasn’t her fault, it was all mine.” You look him dead in the eyes and you have to convince yourself to not break away from the menacing and sharp stare. There’s a moment of silence and you realize, blushing, you forgot something.

“My Lord.” You whisper, your face almost matching the young girl’s.

“Very well. You may go, young one.” He shoos away the servant and she scurries away as fast as she can. “You were almost very, very insolent to me, pet.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You murmur and look away. “What’ll happen with the bath?”

“I’ll help you.” He says and you look up, confused, bewildered. Suddenly you’re lifted from the bed and he’s carrying you across the room, bridal style and you gasp, grabbing onto him, praying not to fall.

The two of you enter a large bathroom with the grandest tub you’ve ever seen. Its golden embellishments are exquisite and you can’t help tracing them with your fingers as he sets you into an already full tub. You look at him with wonder.

“How is it already full, my Lord?”

He smiles softly. “Magic, little one.” His smile becomes a smirk. “Did you expect a Prince to fill his tub physically?”

“I suppose not.” You mutter, blushing, settling into the water, feeling the dirt that’s accumulated on you melt away. Even though you know he’s seen you naked, you can’t help but feel exposed as he watches you in the tub. You sink down into the water further, hoping the water will murk enough to hide your body.

“Have you decided how this is going to play out, pet?” He looks at you curiously, sitting in a chair next to the tub, leaning forward casually so his elbow is on his knee and his palm on his jaw. 

“My Lord?” You furrow your brow a little. “I thought I was your prisoner?”

“I meant the easy or the hard way.” He grins wide, ear to ear, his lips practically dripping with the taunt. “I wouldn’t forget that you’re mine, little girl.”

You blush and want to sink deeper into the water. “I-I thought it was obvious, sir. I don’t want to make things difficult.” You sigh, looking at the floor, hating yourself a little for giving up.

“You could have changed your mind.” He shrugs his shoulder and shifts, leaning back in the chair. “Aren’t you going to wash your luscious little body?”

You shake a little as you reach for a bar of soap. “I-I guess, my Lord.”

He plucks the bar of soap from your hand and begins to lather it on your body, his thin, long fingers, caressing your skin. 

“You’re much fairer than I thought,” he murmurs as the grime disappears. 

He washes your hair twice; it’s been so long since it’s been washed at all, and holds it in his hand for a moment.

“It’s a different color as well.” He really is surprised.

“Yeah, it’s amazing what a few layers of dirt will do to a girl.” You roll your eyes, “Sir.”

He chuckles and kisses the back of your wet head, pausing for a moment to smell the just-washed hair.

“You are far lovelier than I’d imagined,” He gives you that dangerous smirk-grin of his. “Lots of bruises blooming, however.”

You look down and groan, practically witnessing the purple flowers rising to the surface. “I wasn’t treated well, my Lord.” You mutter, clutching your knees in the tub.

He helps you onto your feet and drains the tub, placing you so you’re leaning on him as he moves to dry you off. “I know you weren’t, pet, but I won’t leave bruises.” He smiles his wicked grin. “Unless you want me to.”


	4. There Shouldn't Be A Flower Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter; You wonder why Loki has just shown you relative kindness.

You were surprised by the amount of tenderness Loki had when he’d washed and dried you, and you couldn’t help but be suspicious of it. You felt as though this was a trap, after all, he is the god of mischief. You decided to be on your guard.

After he dries you, you take the towel and wrap it around yourself. He doesn’t complain, but goes to carry you again. You protest, asking if you can try to walk. He pauses and nods. You hobble across the bathroom floor, almost collapsing once. He doesn’t move to help you when you almost fall, almost confirming the idea that you should be suspicious. You pass through the door and into his room and you make your way to the leather couch and sit in it, gasping a little in exhaustion. He follows you and his eyebrows are raised, impressed you managed to walk that far.

“So what happened?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. You add quickly so he doesn’t get mad, “My Lord.”

“What do you mean?” He sits on a chair across from you, propping his legs up on a footstool, plucking a book from the end table next to him and skimming it lazily.

“Well,” you lay back on the couch, “You were so forceful earlier, but just then…” You trail off; figuring that saying “you were so nice” wouldn’t go over well. 

“Are you surprised that a monster could show kindness? Tenderness, even?” You look over to see he’s got that half smirk of his going full force.

“Basically, yeah.” 

“You’ve also just forgotten to call me ‘sir’ two times in a row now.” He turns the page. “Sometimes I like to play the role everyone has handed to me: the monster, the ice cold prince. It seemed particularly fitting to play it in front of the girl who is my property and those who witness her belonging to me. You should fear your owner, after all.” 

He flips the page again, licking his fingers to peel the page easier. “But right now? I’m quite bored of the act. I’m not so bored of you being slightly afraid of me; that amuses me quite a bit still. But I’ve come to the conclusion that if you’re going to be here for a while I don’t want you cringing in fear and glaring at me every time I enter the room.” 

“Does that mean you’ll stop calling me stupid things like ‘pet’ and ‘little one?’”

He looks over at you and grins mischievously. “Heavens, no. You are mine, after all. Plus, I think you know just as well as I do that you like that I call you names, little girl.” 

You blush furiously, not knowing what to say as he turns back to his book. “I think I might try tying you up again, though. I enjoyed that a bit, sexually of course.”

You roll your eyes and lay on your back. “Who said I enjoyed being tied up, though?” You have a bit more confidence now that he won’t hurt you for being sarcastic. You’re pretty sure your sarcasm is why he likes you.

There’s a moment of silence and then suddenly he’s leaning over you, effectively pinning you down. You glare at him and he smirks, his emerald eyes narrowing. He runs a hand along your jaw.

“You can’t deny it, pet.” He brings his lips close to yours. “You can’t deny you love being helpless under me, so warm and nervous under my cool fingers, letting me do what I want with you.”

You start to protest, “Shut u-“ But he cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours.

He kisses you deep, hard, gripping the back of your head, hand scrunched in your hair. You resist at first, but you quickly give in; he kisses too well. You start to kiss back and you feel his lips smirk, pressed against you. His fingers on his other hand are lightly tracing your body, particularly your bruises. His hand moves your towel to the side and he skims your nipple, teasing it in the slightest way, then moving to your hip, gripping your ass. You moan a little and he chuckles, pulling away.

“Tell me you didn’t enjoy that, little one. Tell me you hated it and I won’t touch you again, you have my word.”

You blink, confused as to why he wasn’t kissing you anymore. His hands weren’t in your hair or on your ass, and you felt their absence leave a gaping hole in you that needed to be filled, quickly, metaphorically and literally as you’d started to become aroused. 

He cocks his head and looks down at you. “Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

You blush and gulp. “I…” Your face becomes redder. You can’t say it.

He grips your face in his hand. “Answer me, pet. And be sure to address me properly.”

You squirm a little. “I enjoyed it, my Prince.” You whisper it so softly you aren’t even sure if he could have even heard it.

But he grins. “That’s what I thought.” He leaves the couch and returns to his chair, returning to his book without another word.

You lay there, heart still racing, afraid to look over at him. You’re lost in conflicting thoughts about this strange man and how he was so easily able to arouse you until you fall asleep soundlessly on the couch. You don’t awaken until morning, except you swear you dreamt that Loki had carried you to the bed, and kissed you on the forehead lightly before crawling in himself.


	5. Twisted, Tangled In The Webs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second day of life with the Prince Loki. Well, morning. Figured I'd post a really short chapter since y'all were so patient with the last one. Also I was tired with a headache and got a little into talking about his butt.

You wake up the next morning feeling much better than you did yesterday, which isn’t saying much since the night before you’d slept on the dirty ground. You turn over in the large, plush bed with sleepy eyes, wondering if you’ll see him, Loki, there. Wondering if what you’d dreamed last night was actually real. After all, you were in the bed after you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Something had to have happened there, right? 

You turned over and breathed a sigh of relief to see that the other side of the bed was empty, the blankets and sheets folded neatly. You curled up in a ball on your side, blushing, hugging yourself. You were wondering about last night, sure, but it’s just easier to not have to face him. To just have some quiet time to yourself. 

You don’t have much time though before the bathroom door opens and Loki emerges, wet hair, dripping skin, towel on his waist. You blush a bit harder and turn over on your other side, pulling the covers up to your neck. You try not to look, but his slender body is perfectly muscled and his pale skin seems to shine. You bite your lip a little.

“You’re awake,” he says, walking over to a large wardrobe. He pulls out a pair of black pants and drops his towel. You can only see his ass, but fuck if it isn’t just as nice as the rest of him. Too soon, the sculpted rear is covered by pants. Fucking pants. At least these were tight so you could still basically look at the same outline… what were you even thinking? You didn’t even know if you could trust this man and here you were lusting over his ass. Then again, it is a damn godly ass…

“Did you fall back asleep, little one?” he laughed a sharp, breathy laugh. He approaches the bed and you look at him, eyebrows raised. “I just asked you if you’d like some breakfast.”

You’d really been that lost in thought about butts. Smooth. “Oh. Um. Yeah… yes, sir, I’d like that.” In fact, your stomach was growling. You hadn’t eaten at all the day before, but you were so used to less food from being prisoner, and all the excitement of the day, you hadn’t noticed. Now at the mention of food your stomach was back with a vengeance. 

He smirks and prowls toward you, “Mm. Calling me ‘sir’ on your own; good girl.” He traces your jawline with his forefinger and you shiver a little. He smiles a little wider and then turns, walking to the door, sticking his head out, and muttering something. He ducks back in and grins at you.

“So?” He sits on the edge of the bed, looking you up and down, your body still covered with blankets.

“So? What?” You cock up one eyebrow at him.

 

“Are you going to stay in bed forever, pet?”  
“Yes.” You turn away and burrow the covers further around you.

“Yes, ‘sir,’” He grabs your arm through the blankets and pulls you towards him. The blankets slide off of you, exposing your breasts, and he pulls you closer till you’re sitting, pressed up against him as he still grips your arm. He grabs the back of your head and kisses you hard, grinding his lips against yours. You whimper a little, but not so much in resistance as much as in surprise and pleasure. 

Before the kiss can last long though, there’s a knock on the door. Breakfast. Loki pulls himself from you and you both look at each other, panting a little. 

“By the Gods, I am going to fuck you so hard one of these days, pet.” He laughs a little. “I’m going to make you scream, leave you gasping, begging for more, making you desperate for me; my cock, my lips, my touch. I will fuck you, but only when you’re ready.” By the end he’s breathing it in your ear, hissing it.

He then gets up from the bed and pulls the door open, letting the servant in to place the breakfast. And you just fall backwards onto the bed, eyes wide. This surely was a twisted dream.


	6. Hungry For More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm a lazy piece of shit. You have breakfast with Loki and it goes about as well as you'd expect it to. And at this point, you expect things to never go as you expect. Which is a correct expectation to have.

“Well?” He’s standing over you. “Are you going to eat?”

You look up at him. You’re so caught up in your own thoughts after his um, very vulgar declaration that you hadn’t noticed that the servants had brought in breakfast and left. You’re embarrassed that his words had distracted you that much and you sit up right away, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. 

He pushes you back onto the bed, pinning you down. He watches your surprised expression and smirks, standing up straight.

“What do you want, little one? I’ll bring it over to you.”

You blush a bit and get comfortable in the bed again. “Thank you, Sir. Um, I’ll just have some toast and eggs… do you have eggs here?”

He laughs. “Yes, we have eggs, pet.” He ruffles your hair and goes to fix you a plate. He comes back moments later, handing you your plate, and he sits down across from you on the bed. His plate is similar to yours, except instead of toast he has a sweet looking pastry. 

You dig into your food, your stomach savagely growling. The first bite leaves you speechless and you close your eyes and groan; the food was so good. When you open your eyes, Loki is grinning at you, that mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What a lewd noise, I hope you’ll moan like that for me.” You turn bright red and look away from him. You shove a forkful of food into your mouth.

He did one of his breathy laughs. “You get so embarrassed so easily, I’m not sure that’ll ever get old.”

“S-shut up.” You mutter, still avoiding his gaze. 

He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. You swallow hard. “Shut up, Sir.” He raises an eyebrow and lets go of you, laughing again. 

He watches you eat curiously and you just try not to meet his gaze, glancing around the room as you ate.

“Would you like me to show you around the palace today?” He asks, the teasing gone from his voice.

“What?” You look at him. “You mean I’m not going to be stuck in this room forever?”

He laughs, “How cruel do you think I am, really?”

You shrug a little, blushing, looking away again. His hand touches you cheek and gently turns your head to see his face barely an inch from yours. He was grinning his sideways smile, his green eyes sparkling as they searched yours. You wonder what he found there. As you look into his eyes you become confused. They sparkled, sure, but they were guarded. You couldn’t get a read at all. All you could see was that he was definitely enjoying this. 

You felt his breath tickling your face, and you blush even further. He finally tears his eyes from yours and laughs just a little, a step down from his breathy laugh that you love so much. He looks at you again, his eyes a little more cold, a little more serious, his lips not twitching anymore. You bite your lip a little; you’re so confused by this Prince who owns you. He leans in and kisses you, hard and predatory. You gasp in surprise and he laughs as he kisses you still. He pulls away from the kiss but his fingers trace your body as he looks at you curiously, his wide smile back. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, still lightly running his fingers over you. You narrow your eyes a little at him. “It seems my self-control has holes in it when I’m around you. I promise, I’ll subdue myself enough so that I don’t completely ravage you.”

“How thoughtful,” You mutter, rolling your eyes a little.

“Now don’t get me wrong, little girl.” He brushes his thumb against your cheek. “If I were to take you, right here and now, we would both thoroughly enjoy it, and you know that quite well. But, where’s the fun in that? The fun is in the buildup, the chase. Which is why, like I said before, I will not fuck you until you beg me to and mean it.”

“Glad to have a little clarification there, Sir, I wasn’t sure want constituted as me being ready.” You breathe, sarcastically.

He laughs. “Don’t lie, pet. You love this. You love when I touch you, when I kiss you. Which is why I know you’ll let me totally have you eventually.”

You scoff a little. He smiles and kisses your cheek softly. “I do love your denial, though. It’s quite amusing.”

You blush a little and he moves away from you, getting up from the bed and moving to his wardrobe and pulling out a green tunic.

“Now, would you like to get dressed and let me show you around the palace or not?”


End file.
